Forgiven
by Silwen Aurdomiel
Summary: Sequel to 'A Lost Life, A Lost Soul' 1st story doesn't have to be read to understand this one. Legolas finally returns home, full of guilt. When he is mortally wounded, will he and his father finally face their pains together? Better than it sounds!
1. Prologue

**_Prologue_**

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You don't have to read this. If you haven't read _A Lost Life, A Lost Soul_, I suggest you either read the story, or the summary here.

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_Disclaimer:_ I do not own LotR, any of Tolkien's original characters, and places.  However, I _do_ own all of my characters and this story.  This applies for this entire story.

_Background Information:_ This is the sequel to _A Lost Life, A Lost Soul_.  To gain a better understanding, I'd suggest actually reading the story, but I have provided a brief summary of basically what you need to know to understand this story.

_Summary of A Lost Life, A Lost Soul:_ _A Lost Life, A Lost Soul_ is the story of how Legolas came to be entrusted with Gollum's imprisonment in Mirkwood, how he lost Gollum, and how in the process lost his sister (Ithilwen).

OK, enough of my chatter, go, read the story!


	2. Chapter 1

**_Chapter 1_**

          "Farewell, my friends, if only for a little while!" called Legolas to Aragorn and Gimli as he turned and rode away from Gondor.

          As they returned his farewells, Legolas sighed.  It was a sigh of contentment, sadness, and growing apprehension.  He was finally returning to his Mirkwood home after a year away.  Although a human year was but a drop of time in the pool of Eternity to the Elves, it had nevertheless felt a long while since he had last looked upon his woodland home.

          And yet, a part of him wondered over his return.  After the passing of Ithilwen, Legolas had lived in constant guilt.  Though he had pushed it to the back of his mind as he traveled with the Fellowship, it had always returned, often in the dead of night as he stood watch, haunting him, tormenting him. Thranduil had never sent any word of forgiveness. 

          _But then, why should he?_ Legolas asked bitterly.  _I killed his only daughter, I killed his dream and his sole reminder of Naneth.  Why should he forgive me? _

Love it, like it, hate it? Review (or flame me)! Let me know of your opinions. Questions, comments, concerns? Email me at silwenaurdomiel@yahoo.com!


	3. Chapter 2

**_Chapter 2_**

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          A few days had passed since he had set out from Gondor.  Arod had taken little rest, and Legolas less.  But they were nearing the woodland.  Now all that remained to cross was a large grassy hill.  With a deep breath, he gently brushed the horse's flanks and his mount started forward up the hill.

          As they rose over the verge, Legolas finally laid eyes upon his home once more.  He rejoiced at the sight of the great and ancient oaks, even as his heart fluttered uncertainly in his chest.  With a whisper, he urged his Rohirrim steed forward again, descending the hill, and entering Mirkwood.

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          The trees were dark and dense, little light peering through, even in the bright of the summer day.  Few animals were daring enough to skitter across his path as Arod stepped forth.  A few straggling strands of spider silk dangled from the tree tops, stirring occasionally in the stale wind.  Yet despite these foreboding sights, Legolas felt at home once more.  This was the forest he loved, the woods he had spent all his life in; this was his home that he had longed for since leaving.

          Yet he was careful to pass far from the ruins of Sauron's former haunt, Dol Guldur, where faint wisps of smoke still could be seen spiraling into the air by a fine eye.  A few straggling orcs still haunted the Southern woods, often preying upon weary and unwary travelers.  The golden-haired prince had no intention of being one of these unfortunate souls.  These thoughts stirring in his mind, he pushed his horse on faster, even as his apprehension grew.

Love it, like it, hate it? Review (or flame me)! Let me know of your opinions. Questions, comments, concerns? Email me at silwenaurdomiel@yahoo.com!****


	4. Chapter 3

**_Chapter 3_******

          "Who goes there?" called the voice of a guard from the top of the high gate, which was guarding the borders of the Northern woods.

          "'Tis I, Prince Legolas.  I have returned home," he replied, remembering that it was the same gate that he and the present King of Gondor had entered from with Gollum in tow two years ago.          

          From their positions at the gate, the guards, with their fine Elven eyes, could see that, indeed, the Prince had returned.   

          "It is an honor, to welcome your home at last, Your Highness.  You have been greatly missed," they called.        

          As the gate was raised, Legolas called his thanks up and rode forward, into his Father's kingdom.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

          It was not a long ride to his father's palace.  As Legolas rode along the path that wove through the trees to the palace, he could see that word of his arrival home had been sent ahead, and had reached before he had.

          As he emerged from the woods, he could see clearly the Elven soldiers in their magnificent gold and green livery lined along the sides of the path.  As he started down the path, sweet woodland music began to play.  The soldiers' blades swung upwards and formed a shining silver arc above his head as he rode. Rosy petals of spring flowers were cast in his path by fair garland-bearing maidens.  The elves standing behind the soldiers bowed as he passed.  

          When he had reached the great oak doors of the palace, they were drawn open to reveal the royal procession awaiting him.  Legolas dismounted Arod as they started down the carved stone steps.  First was King Thranduil, his fair hair crowned with a silver circlet entwined with blooming vines.  His father's face shone with joy, tears in his eyes and a smile upon his lips.  Behind the king followed the crown prince, Legolas's eldest brother, Adrahil, who was clearly overjoyed to see his youngest brother again.  After Adrahil came the other two, Legolas's brothers, Brethilorn and Thalion, and behind them, the royal guard, resplendent in their armor.  A pang shot through Legolas's heart as he looked at the empty space where Ithilwen would have walked.

          Thranduil reached his youngest son and roughly pulled him into an embrace.

          "Legolas.  By the Valar, is it truly you?" Thranduil murmured hoarsely into his son's golden hair.

          "Yes, Ada, it is." Legolas whispered back as tears gathered in his eyes and a fresh wave of guilt washed over him.

          As his father released him, Legolas felt for a moment that Thranduil had been reluctant to let him go.  But the comforting thought was quickly destroyed as the voice inside his head returned and reminded him of Ithilwen.  

          He wasn't allowed to ponder for long, for his brothers pounced on him, and the thought was lost for the time being.

          Hugs were exchanged and tears were shed as all high-bearing images were cast aside.  Laughing and weeping, father and sons returned home together.

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Thanks, mistopurr, for the review!  Glad you like it.

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Love it, like it, hate it? Review (or flame if you see fit)! Let me know of your opinions.  Email me at silwenaurdomiel@yahoo.com!****


	5. Chapter 4

**_Chapter 4_**

            The sunlight filtered through the crystalline glass, illuminating dancing trails of stardust.  The silk curtains waved gently in the summer wind that wove in through the open windows.

          Legolas sighed gently in contentment as he looked again upon his bedroom that he had grown up in.  It was exactly as he had left it, save for the packs he had traveled with, which were lying by the bed.

          He walked over to the wardrobe, opened it, took out a fresh outfit, and exited the chamber to go freshen up after his long journey home.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

          A lone oak stood skywards in the small clearing.  Niphredil and Elanor had been planted around the base and bloomed on the mound that lay at the tree's foot.  A few words had been delicately cut into the tree's skin; "_Here lies Princess Ithilwen Aurëlien_."

          Legolas dropped to his knees at the mount's foot.  He gently placed a small bouquet of Simbelmynë upon his sister's grave, and for the first time in a year, let his pent up tears of pain and guilt flow free.

          "*Amin hirathea, Ithilwen, amin hirathea," he whispered as hot tears slipped onto Ithilwen's grave.  "I've failed you.  It was my duty to protect you, to watch over you, and I failed.  Please forgive me."

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* "Amin hirathea" = I'm sorry

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Please review!  Or email at silwenaurdomiel@yahoo.com!


	6. Chapter 5

**_Chapter 5_**

          The days following Legolas's return were uneventful as life fell back into a regular pace.

          A week had passed and Legolas sat idle in Thranduil's marble halls.  There was nothing to do; the last meeting had just ended, and Adrahil, Brethilorn, and Thalion had left to patrol the Mirkwood borders.

          Thranduil looked at his son.  Legolas was toying absentmindedly with his fair hair, a habit he'd had since being an elfling.  He was dressed in his usual silver court robes and was staring unfocusedly at the wall opposite him.  By all outward appearances he seemed perfectly normal, but the eyes of a father are not as easily deceived.  

          "*Ion-nin, what is troubling your mind?" Thranduil asked bluntly.

          Legolas jerked out of his trance-like state.  "N-Nothing, Ada," he answered uncertainly, slightly taken aback by the question.

          Thranduil merely stared at him, eyebrow slightly raised.

          "Really, Ada, nothing troubles my mind!" the young prince insisted.

          Thranduil sighed, somewhat irritably.  "You've not been yourself since you returned.  You rarely speak, you eat little, you rest less than what is normal even for an elf, and yet you say nothing is wrong.  Do you take me for a fool?" the King demanded.  But he calmed swiftly as he caught sight of Legolas staring at the ground.  "Please, ion-nin," he pleaded, crossing to his son's throne and kneeling by him.  He gently lifted Legolas's head so that he was looking into his eyes.  "Please.  I cannot bear for you to hate me."

          "I do not hate you, Ada," Legolas muttered shortly.  _It is myself_. he thought

          "Then what is it?  Will you not unburden your heart?  Let me carry your burden, ion-nin."

          Legolas sighed.  What he truly wanted the most at the moment was to unburden his heart, to confide in someone, to his father especially.  _What have I to lose in telling him?_ he thought.  _He already hates me._

          Making a quick decision, the prince resolved to tell his father what was troubling his mind.  But just as he opened his mount to speak, the oak doors flew open.  It was Adrahil.

          Thranduil bit his lip to keep from exploding at his eldest son.  Legolas had been on the verge of speaking.  Instead, he swallowed, stood up, and turned to the Crown Prince.  "What is it?"

          "*Yrch," Adrahil gasped.  "On the Southern Border.  They've set it to flames."

          "How many are there?" 

          "Many, they outnumber our men.  Thalion and his men are already there."

          "And Brethilorn?"

          "Gathering as many of his men that can be spared, but we still are outnumbered."

          "I will take 100 of our men and go with you, Adrahil," Legolas suddenly said.  Before he could be stopped, he rushed out of the room.  A few moments later, a horn calling men to arms sounded outside, and after a few more minutes had passed, Legolas reappeared in the hall, wearing a brown tunic, bow in hand, quiver slung over his back, and a long white knife at his side.

          He bowed swiftly to his father in a motion of farewell and dashed out the door with Adrahil following.

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*"Ion-nin" = My son 

*"Yrch" = Orcs

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Gozilla – Thanx!  Srry bout the short chapters, I've never really been one to write long ones.  I'm trying tho!  hope this one is slightly better in length ;P

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Review pleez!  Or email at silwenaurdomiel@yahoo.com!


	7. Chapter 6

**_Chapter 6_**

          The summer night was cool and pale, the sole light coming from a silver moon darting between clouds; not unlike the fateful one a year ago when Ithilwen had been killed.  But the ethereal mood of the evening was far from comforting; instead it was tense and foreboding.  Thick smoke enveloped the already darkened forest, and the southern sky was tinted a blood red.

          Legolas and Adrahil led their men swiftly through the woods, their steeds making ear-splitting noise, crashing through the brush.  They spoke little, if at all, each intent on reaching the fire before it was too late.  

          As they passed a clearing, Brethilorn emerged from it, joined by about 50 men.   Riding quickly, they reached the Southern Border in little amount of time.  The heat of the flames was hot and the thick smog was strangling.

          Men were digging a trench around the flames in hopes of keeping the fire from spreading.  Sand was being thrown onto the flames on the ground, and what little water that could be harnessed from the nearby river was being put to use.  However, very little, if not nothing, was being done to the fire dancing up the trees.

          Legolas leapt off his horse and raced off towards the nearest tree.  He skittered over and around flames in his path, ignoring the yells of protest from his brothers.  Without hesitation, he grabbed the lowest branch of the nearest oak and began to climb.  The young prince expertly maneuvered his way up the oak, avoiding the creeping tongues of flames crawling up the opposite side.

          By the time he had reached the top, Legolas had somehow managed to draw his knife in his right hand.  Clinging to the branches with his left hand, the prince stood up on the thicker limbs of the tree and inched his way around the tree to where the burning branches were.  He crouched on a branch overhanging a burning tree-limb and flattened himself onto his stomach, dangerously close to the taunting flames.  The choking smoke stung his eyes, blinding him with his own tears.  He raised his knife and brought it down on the burning limb.

          The branch crashed down through the leaves onto the forest floor where it was quickly extinguished by those working on the ground.  When the others realized what the prince was doing, they too began ascending the burning trees and started cutting down the burning braches to prevent the fires from spreading further.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

          In the chaos of the fire, nobody seemed to remember the orcs who had originally been the cause of the blaze.  None of the four princes had taken time, or even thought to place guards to watch for the orcs' return.  It was a fatal mistake.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

          Legolas was balanced delicately on a slender branch, a feat which only an elf could accomplish.  He was focused intently on the burning branch to the left, above his head.  He released his grip on the tree, standing freely on the swaying limb.  He turned to his left, facing the branch.  The prince swung his knife up like an axe, wielding it with both hands.  The blade bit through the wood easily and the burning limb crashed down, narrowly missing Legolas.  He breathed a sigh of mixed relief and exhaustion as the limb passed.  He turned and moved to step to another branch to work at another bough.  

          The youngest prince of Mirkwood never saw the orc arrow shooting through the air straight at him.

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PokethePenguin – I didn't stop, just got kicked of the computer X_X  Trying to get the next two chapters up. J   

Deana – Yup, Thranduil probably _really_ hates those orcs.  They killed his daughter too L.  But then again, who wouldn't hate orcs?  

Thanx you guys!

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Reviews please!  Or email me at silwenaurdomiel@yahoo.com


	8. Chapter 7

**_Chapter 7_**

          "We're under attack!"

          On instinct at hearing these words, Legolas tried to throw himself flat on the ground.  Unfortunately, he forgot for a moment that he was not on the ground, but instead standing on the branch of a burning oak tree.

          Losing his balance, he flipped over the branch, plunging head-long towards the ground.  As he descended, Legolas grabbed at a branch, desperate to stop his fall.  He grimaced as his body lost momentum, swinging from the tree, his hands rubbed raw.  But it had done the trick; he was now hanging from a branch.

          Legolas swung himself up onto a nearby branch and crouched on it.  It was a slender one, barely holding his weight, but he didn't notice that at the moment.  As he looked up at the branch he had fallen from, he could see something black embedded in the skin to tree, where he had been just moments earlier.  It was an unmistakable orc arrow.

          Below him the battle against the blaze had been forgotten as the soldiers dodged arrows and fought the orcs who had charged forward.  Legolas could see Brethilorn and Thalion on the ground almost directly beneath him, their white blades flashing alongside the other soldiers'.  The prince looked about for his own knife, which had been dropped during his brief downward fall.  Legolas was slightly surprised to find it embedded in the branch below the one he was crouching on.  He reached down an arm towards the knife.

          Just then, there came a sharp "_crack_" from his branch.  He barely had time to realize that another black arrow had just hit its mark when the branch completely broke, carrying him down with it through the boughs.  He grabbed wildly for anything that could save him from his fall.  Legolas's hand landed on the hilt of his knife.  The knife came loose and joined him as he fell

          The young prince crashed through the tree's boughs, and through the flames that danced along the tree.  He writhed and screamed as the fire bit and burned his left arm.  After what had seemed an eternity, he hit the ground. Hard.  As soon as he had landed, he rolled across the floor, trying to put out the flame on his arm.

          He rolled to a stop on his chest as the fire died out.  He breathed out in relief, and slowly moved to get to his feet.

          Just as he painfully pushed himself up, he was slammed forcefully into the ground.  Legolas could feel the unmistakable pressure of a foot pushing him into the ground

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Deana – You know, you're really good at this guessing stuff… 

Weezie – Thanx!  It's fun to leave ppl hanging *grins evilly* jk lol

PokethePenguin – I'm glad you like it :D

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Reviews plz!!!!  Or email at silwenaurdomiel@yahoo.com :D  Thanx you guys!


	9. Chapter 8

**_Chapter 8_**

          "If it isn't a pretty little elfling," growled a deep voice above Legolas's head.  A clawed hand grabbed the prince's hair, jerking his head back violently.  A crude broad blade slipped under his neck.  "A pretty _prince_ elfling, by the looks of it," the orc remarked, catching sight of Legolas's white knife and kicking it away.  "Haven't had that in _such_ a long time…"

          Legolas ground his teeth together in frustration.  He felt so stupid for allowing himself to be caught like this.  During all his years of training, one of the main principles they were drilled with was _not_ to get caught in this exact sort of situation.  _I've failed that one,_ he thought bitterly, _just like I've failed everything else._  

          The knife pressed harder against his skin; Legolas could feel the droplets of blood oozing out.  Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Legolas saw a figure fly out of the dark.  The orc was knocked off his back, and he heard the sound of clashing metal.  The prince rolled over onto his back.  He could see who had saved him, it was Adrahil.  The orc now lay dead on the forest ground.

          The crown prince offered his younger brother his hand.  Legolas took it and got to his feet.  He winced sharply as his brother's fingers brushed over his arm, where he had been burnt, but tried to conceal it.  Adrahil had seen is expression.

          "What is it?" asked the elder sharply.

          "I – nothing.  I landed on my arm," answered Legolas.  Before his brother could utter another word, he ran off into the woods, in search of orcs.

          Adrahil frowned, and then sighed, following his brother's lead.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

          Legolas swung his blade at an orc, decapitating it easily.  He ducked as the first body fell, avoiding a blade aimed at his head.  The prince spun, plunging his knife into the attacker.  He turned, blade raised, meeting another orc's sword.  In a swift upward motion, he swung free of his opponent's blade, stepped and brought his knife into the orc, all in the blink of an eye.

          The sharp whistling sound of an arrow shot towards the prince.  This time he heard it.  Legolas turned and swept his knife, knocking the arrow away in midair.  

          He moved into the wide clearing where his brothers were.  Bodies were strewn across the ground, blood staining the ground black and red.  Nonetheless, it seemed as if the army of orcs had not dwindled in the least.  There was far more orcs than elves.

          The four brothers fought alongside each other, defending each other's backs.  They drove forward ferociously, taking no mercy on the onslaught of orcs.  Their faces and tunics were stained red with blood and black with ash.

          Legolas brought his knife down on an orc's head, cleaving its skull.  He felt a body sag against him and spun defensively.  It was an orc- Brethilorn had just slain it with a well placed arrow to the throat.

          The Adrenaline rush that had kept the princes fighting tirelessly was dying down, and they were losing energy.  Most of their men had fallen, and they themselves were not uninjured either.

          They were slowly driven back as they gave up ground to the pressing orcs.  Adrahil, Brethilorn, Thalion, and Legolas stood in a circle, back to back, the remaining guards circling them.  Yet there seemed to be no end to the orcs; for every one killed, it seemed as if there were two to take its place.  The situation was hopeless.

          They exchanged a single glance that all four understood.  This was the end.  There was no way out.  Yet the brothers refused to give up without taking last one stand.  They would die fighting.  Die fighting together.  Die fighting side-by-side.

          A single cry erupted from the brothers' throats.  They rushed forward as one, white knives glinting with dark blood in the moonlight, raised above their heads.  They tore into the mass of orcs as a single deadly force, parrying and stabbing.

          Legolas looked about him at his brothers, tears stinging his eyes.  Brethilorn fought with a large orc.  He lashed out his leg, tripping the creature and plunged his knife into the beast.  Thalion was shooting at the orcs, using the arrows to defend himself a as swords as well as attack.  Adrahil was in the very heart of the battle, not far from Legolas.  The eldest prince was engaged in the battle with an enormous, seemingly the leader, not seeing the pair of orcs moving to attack him from behind.  But Legolas saw them.  The youngest son of Thranduil battled his way to his brother's side just as the two orcs reached him.

          Legolas met the attackers' blades with his own, the energy of the blades clashing running down his arm.  He stepped to the left, turning, and knocked one orc's feet out from under him.  Legolas then spun and ducked as the other orc tried to decapitate him.  He stepped behind the orc, shoving it into the first and burying his knife through both.

          In the fury of the battle, Legolas had not seen the attack aimed at himself.  As he pulled his knife out, an orc blade swung out of nowhere, and cut into his side.

          Legolas cried out in pain as the blade was drawn. There was the metallic scent of blood in his mouth.  He fell to his knees, head spinning with pain like he had never known.  The battle passed on before his eyes.  His blood spilled out hot and sticky onto his hand.  His eyes slowly fluttered shut, the world disappearing into utter darkness.  Legolas fell to the ground, unmoving.

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Deana – You were dead on!  When some of my friends read it, they were all like, "You killed Legolas?!?!" (and they were really mad – us Orli fans, ya know) ;)

Zammy – I'm trying… I think I'm having writer's block. @_@

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A/N: Maybe you noticed and maybe you didn't, (and you probably don't care anyways…) but I just changed the rating cuz I think that the fighting stuff in these past 3(?) chapters are a little too violent for 'G'.  So, yeah.

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Plz review (or respond how you see fit)!  Or email at silwenaurdomiel@yahoo.com


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

          "Where is he? Where is Legolas?  Where is my son?"  Thranduil charged through the halls of his palace in wild franticness.  His eldest sons had just returned from the kingdom borders, bearing the news of the death of many, and many more wounded – including his youngest son.

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          _"Legolas!" Adrahil screamed as he watched his brother crumble to the ground and lay there unmoving._

_          The twins, Brethilorn and Thalion battled through the tide of orcs to Adrahil's side, shocked at the sight of their brother lying upon the ground.  The soldiers, summoned by Adrahil's screams rushed toward the princes, forming a human barrier against the orcs._

_          Adrahil knelt beside the unmoving figure, tears blurring his vision.  But he could see that blood was still streaming out of the gash at his side.  He still lived.  _

_          Thalion knelt on the other side of Legolas, ripping off his own cloak.  He shredded the cloth into long shreds and bound them tightly about his brother's waist, trying to slow the flow of blood._

_          "We must get him back to the palace, even if it means forfeiting our own lives," Brethilorn said.  His two other brothers nodded._

_          From various fallen branches and their cloaks, Adrahil, Brethilorn, and Thalion constructed a crude stretcher and gently lifted Legolas onto it. Brethilorn and Thalion lifted it up as Adrahil moved forward, driving to clear a path for them.  The soldiers realized this and joined him_

_          The brothers wept as they moved forward, watching helplessly as the guards sacrificed themselves out of love for their prince, blocking him with their own bodies and lives. _

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          The King flew down the corridor towards Legolas's room.  On reaching his youngest son's bedroom, he burst through the closed oak door.  He could not bear to stop to think about what he would see beyond the door.

          Adrahil, Brethilorn, and Thalion looked up from their brother as the door swung open, revealing their father, a look of mingled anger and pain in his face.  The Crown Prince rose from his position on the edge of the bed, allowing Thranduil to take his place as the twins stepped aside from the door.  

          Thranduil slowly peeled back the already blood-soaked sheets covering his son.  He lay bare-chested on the bed, his waist bound tightly with thick cotton bandages, the skin of his left arm red and raw.  Yet blood had already seeped through the dressings.

          "Has anyone sent for a healer?" asked Thranduil quietly.

          "Yes Ada, he's on his way," responded the other three in unison.

          At that moment, a quiet rapping sound came from the open door.  The four turned, seeing a green-clad elf carrying a black leather bag standing in the doorway.  Ancient lines of wisdom were written upon his face.

          The brothers stepped out of the way of the chief healer as the King rose slowly from his son's side.

          Wordlessly, the healer moved to the bed, bending over the unmoving prince.  He carefully unwound the bloody bandages.  With the dressings removed, the wound could be seen clearly.

          Thranduil couldn't help shuddering as he looked upon the wound.  The knife-stroke had been delivered with intent to kill, and the cut was deep, blood still flowing.  The flesh and muscle had been laid open – it was a wonder that Legolas was still alive.  Thranduil, Adrahil, Brethilorn, and Thalion turned away, all fearing that the wound was fatal.

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          Thranduil stood waiting anxiously in the hall by the closed door, his sons standing by him – the healer had kicked them from the room.  The air of tenseness was so thick it felt strangling.

          The royal family jumped as the door opened slowly and the healer emerged. 

          The King approached the elf, apprehension in his eyes.  "How is he?"

          "It is hard to say," responded the healer slowly. "But," he added, catching Thranduil's look of impatience, "I have done everything in my power for him.  It is his choice of life or to pass on now."  With that he nodded respectfully to the King and walked away.

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Deana – Yeah, I agree.

mistopurr – Thanx for all the reviews!  *flushes* thanks, I'm flattered.

PokethePenguin – Lol.  Ok, I'll try to make him as alright as he can be.

Scegan – Thanx!

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Reviews? Email? Anything!


	11. Chapter 10

**_Chapter 10_**

          Legolas lay motionlessly on his bed, his eyes closed as if he slept.  His fair hair was loose and fanned out on his pillow and across his bare shoulders.  His left arm laid over the sheets, bound with bandages where it had been burned.  

          The sheets on the bed had been changed to fresh ones, the bloody ones cast away.  A torch burned brightly in its bracket above Legolas's head.  There was no hint left in the room of the tragic circumstances save for the rolls of bandages and jar of salve on the desk.

          Thranduil sat on the edge of the bed, Adrahil and the twins on chairs at the bedside.  All four watched the youngest member of their family intently, each praying silently to the Valar.  Thranduil rested his hand on Legolas's temple, gently murmuring in soft elvish.

          "*Amin cân lle ed, ion-nin, od ir dûr ennorath ar othrad mas lle revia.  Tulta tuolya ar tolo dan nan galad, ae sen na ir iest ò lîn gûr."

          Legolas's eyes flickered open slowly.  He blinked several times in the light of the torch as his sapphire eyes unclouded, regaining their usual sharpness.  

          "Ada?" he whispered, looking up at his father.

          "Ion-nin," Thranduil sighed, sliding off the bed to kneel by his son, and wrapping his arms around him.

          Legolas felt his father's hot tears on his shoulder as his own slipped down his face, mingling with his father's golden hair.  He buried his face into Thranduil's neck, wrapping his own arms around his father and wept.

          After much tears had been spilt forth, Thranduil finally reluctantly let go of his son, remembering the other three.  As soon as he stood up, Adrahil, Brethilorn, and Thalion immediately seized upon their younger brother.  They wept as well, in joy and relief that they had not lost another sibling and member of their family.  Too many had been lost in less than a year**, first their mother, then their sister, Ithilwen.  Tragedy had struck too hard upon this family.

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*"I call you forth, my son, from the dark lands and roads where you wander.  Summon forth your strength and come back to the light, if that be the choice of your heart."

**Referring to one elvish year – 144 human years

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	12. Chapter 11

**_Chapter 11_**

          With the passing days Legolas grew stronger.  The burns on his arm healed quickly with the aid of some elvish salve and his cut, which had been stitched by the healer, slowly mended.  Though such a serious wound would usually take months to heal, he was nevertheless, an Elf, an Elf who was strong in body and in mind, and whose body was accustomed to the inflictions of battle.  Within a month, Legolas was strong enough to walk again and resumed his usual duties around the palace, though he still tired easily.  However, he forever bore a long, angry scar on his left side.

          Time passed quickly, as always for the Elven race, and before long, it had been almost half a year since Legolas had returned from the Quest.  Summer passed swiftly, autumn flew by, and winter dawned upon the woodland realm.  The family was content for they were once again reunited, and by all outward appearances, Legolas was no different.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

          The days were shorter, the sunset fell early.  Legolas stood at his window, watching sun sink into a golden sea, waving goodbye with its rose-hued streamers.  There were heavy clouds gathering in the air – it looked as if the first winter snow would fall soon.  He sighed as he looked back upon his journey with the Fellowship, attempting the Red Horn Pass the same time last year.

          A knock came at the door.  The prince turned to see his brother Thalion poking his head in the door.  

          "You're wanted in the Hall."

          "What is it?  What happened?"

          Thalion shrugged slightly.  "Estel – I mean – King Telcontar sent word."

          Legolas nodded wordlessly, pulled on a silver court robe over his brown tunic, and followed his brother out the door and towards the Hall.  Apparently he hadn't been forgotten by his friends.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

          Legolas and Thalion swept into the Hall, bowing briefly to Thranduil, who nodded at them.  The princes took their places on their thrones on Thranduil's left hand, opposite the Crown Prince, Adrahil who sat at the King's right.  All heads turned expectantly towards a dark-haired man clad in the black and silver of Minas Tirith standing before the King's throne.  

          Thranduil nodded towards the Gondorian messenger, allowing him to resume the message sent from Telcontar.  

          "Though the Dark Lord has been defeated, many of his minions still roam the free western lands," the King and his sons exchanged a look of knowing here, "Gondor has been especially plagued by orcs, and our own numbers are insufficient.  We ask of the kindly elves of Greenwood to aid us in this matter, for we are in desperate need."

          Thranduil and his three eldest sons looked towards each other, debating on what to do.  However, Legolas stood without hesitation.  "I will bring some of our men to aid Gondor in their difficulty with your leave, Ada."

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A/N: Sorry it took forever to update – been taking those stupid standardized tests in school and teachers are a little too generous with homework… -_- 

          Am thinking about doing a prequel to _A Lost Life, A Lost Soul_.  Will probably be set during The Hobbit.

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Deana – Poor him, but he's better now.

Mistopurr – Your senses are right… Thanks for all your compliments!


	13. Chapter 12

**_Chapter 12_**

          Little was said about Legolas's volunteering to go to Gondor in the days following the messenger's arrival.  The Gondorian messenger was sent back with word of the Mirkwood elves' aid after a night of much needed food and rest.

          Thranduil was obviously grudging to let his son go again after so short a time.  He'd barely been home for even half a year – a human year at that.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

          A torch burned brilliantly in its socket above the bed, illuminating the youngest prince's golden hair.

          Legolas sat on his bed, legs crossed, as if he were still an elfling.  He stared about at the massive mess of clothes, weaponry, equipment, and trunks sprawled about him on the bed and on the floor of the chamber with no clue on where to start his packing.  He was to be leaving in a short while – two days – and though a great part of him wished to remain home, he felt it was his duty to aid Aragorn in his need.

          A sharp rapping at his door jerked him out of his thoughts.  Adrahil looked in, his look slightly amused at the sight in front of him.

          "Need help?"

          Legolas shook his head blankly.  "No.  What is it?"

          "Ada sent for you.  He's in the study."

          Legolas nodded this time, "Hannon lle*, Adrahil."  He carefully slid off the bed and picked his way towards the door through the disarray.  Adrahil stepped aside, letting his younger brother pass. 

          The elder gently placed his hand on Legolas's shoulder in reassurance and sorrow.  The younger smiled sadly at him, his heart heavier than ever at having to leave again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

          Legolas tapped softly on the oak doors of Thranduil's study.  

          "Mino*" came the response from within the room.

          The younger prince tensely turned the handle and pushed open the door. 

          Thranduil sat at the desk, a torch burning brightly above his head, provided enough light so that he could read.  At the moment, he was bent over a few sheets of parchment sitting on the desk.  He dipped a long quill into a small bottle of ink and signed his signature on the top sheet.  With that, he carefully moved the thin sheaf off to the side of his desk.

          Recapping the ink bottle, Thranduil finally looked up at his son.  His piercing blue eyes – those which all five of his children had inherited – shone in the dim light.

          "Adrahil said you called?" Legolas said somewhat abruptly.

          "I did," confirmed his father.  "Havo dad*," he said, gesturing towards a soft chair sitting nearby.  Legolas obeyed and perched on the edge of the seat.  

          Thranduil could easily sense his tenseness.  "What troubles you, ion-nin?"

          Legolas shrugged slightly, "Much," he muttered, his eyes downcast, staring at his boots.

          "Will you tell me?"  It was more of a command than a question.

          Silence.

          "I don't want to leave," Legolas murmured after a while.  "But you don't exactly want me to stay, do you?" 

          Thranduil had opened his mouth to speak again, but shut it again, taken aback by Legolas's words.  What could one say to such harsh words – especially when they came from your own son?

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* "Hannon lle" = Thank you

* "Mino" = Enter

* "Havo dad" = Sit down.

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Zammy – sorry it took so long…


	14. Chapter 13

**_Chapter 13_**

****

          "W-What?" stammered Thranduil mindlessly in his shock.

          "You heard," muttered Legolas bitterly, "don't pretend you didn't."

          "Where ever did you get that idea?  Why would I ever want you to leave?"

          "Why would you want me to stay?" countered Legolas.  

          "Why would you ever believe I wouldn't?"

          Legolas rolled his eyes – this conversation was absolutely pointless.  He rose from his chair and made to walk out of the room but Thranduil grabbed his wrist.

          "Amin hirathea, ion-nin,*" Thranduil said gently, "Please, I don't want you to hate me."

          Legolas sighed and sat back down.  "I don't hate you."

          "You do a fine job of showing it," remarked Thranduil sardonically.

          The prince made to stand up again.  Immature, he knew, but Legolas was tired of the pointless conversation.

          "Amin hirathea," his father said again, cursing at himself for being immature.  "Please.  If you don't hate me, then what is it?  You aren't yourself."

          Legolas rolled his eyes under his lowered eyelids.  "Of course I'm not," he muttered in a bitter tone.  "How am I supposed to be?  Nothing is right.  Nothing ever will be right," his voice grew louder and louder.  "Nothing can ever go back to the way it once was – and it's all my fault!

            "Nothing will ever be the same without Naneth*, or Ithilwen. And it's all because of _me_!  I killed Ithilwen, I killed my sister!"  Legolas was beside himself in rage and grief and guilt.  His usually pale face was flushed and angry tears of shame streamed down his face.  

          Thranduil stood up and reached gently towards his son, pulling him close.  "Nothing ever was your fault, ion-nin," he said gently.

          "I was to blame, and you were right to blame me," Legolas said vehemently, ignoring his father's gentle words.

          "Legolas, I—" Thranduil started, but his son cut him off with a shake of his head and tried to wrench himself away.

          Thranduil grabbed the prince's wrist again and pulled him to face himself.  He tilted Legolas's chin so that he was forced to look up.

          "Legolas, please, just listen.  I never blamed you.  It never was your fault.  I knew that, we all knew that.  You never should have blamed yourself.  

          "I love you, ion-nin, and I treasure you, even more so than I ever did before.  I now have only you and your brothers, and to lose you would be more than I can bear.  I thank Ilúvatar everyday that you have been returned to me safely.  Don't you _ever_ think that I would let you go willingly and without pain."

          Legolas nodded as tears slipped down his cheeks once more and collapsed into his father's embrace.  "Amin hirathea, Ada.  Amin meltha lle*."

          "Amin meltha lle, ion-nin," Thranduil whispered back, his tears lost in his son's golden hair.

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* Amin hirathea, ion-nin = I'm sorry, my son

* Naneth = Mother

*Amin meltha lle = I love you.

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amy – Thanks!  I'm glad you like it!

Zammy – No problem.  Thanks for reviewing!

Evenstar – 144 human years equals one Elf year.  I remember reading it in the Appendix of RotK.  It was the one with all the calendars – Appendix D I think.

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Please review!!!  Or email me at silwenaurdomiel@yahoo.com


	15. Chapter 14

**_Chapter 14_**

          Legolas emerged from the woods, his steps more heavy-hearted then usual.  He lifted his head, his usual shining eyes dim with sorrow.  He had just returned from visiting Ithilwen a final visit his mother's graves for a last time before he left.

          Thranduil, Adrahil, Brethilorn, and Thalion turned to look at the youngest member of their family upon hearing his return.  They stood somberly waiting for Legolas.

          Adrahil held to Arod's bridle.  The horse was once again slung with the light elven packs Legolas had traveled with.  The other three stood in a semi-circle around the crown prince and the horse.  Behind them, the men that were leaving with Legolas were readying themselves for the journey ahead.

          The five of them stood in silence, staring at each other for a few moments for none could think of anything to say.  Finally, Adrahil broke the tense silence.

          "Two-hundred of our finest warriors will travel with you to Gondor."

          Legolas nodded in response.  "Thank you, I am sure Estel – or rather, King Telcontar – will be pleased."

          Again, silence.

          "Food is in your pack, and your water skins have been filled," Adrahil tried again.

          Legolas nodded again.  He bit the inside of his lower lip, trying to keep tears from welling in his eyes.

          The setting sun cast long, red shadows into the sky, night was quickly approaching.  All knew that Legolas and his men would have to leave soon.

          Thranduil sighed, placing a gentle hand on his son's cheek.  "I wish for nothing more for you than a safe journey, a swift return."

          "And I wish for nothing more than the same, Ada," responded Legolas in a hoarse whisper.

          Adrahil clapped a hand on his younger brother's shoulder as their father moved his hand.  "Maer manadh, gwador*," he said.

          Legolas fell into his brother's arms in a final embrace as Brethilorn and Thalion joined in as well.  The brothers' tears of parting mingled together upon their cheeks.

          As they parted, Legolas turned towards his father.  He slipped into Thranduil's embrace, feeling like an elfling again.

          "Remember, ion-nin, we love you, no matter what.  Do not carry anymore false guilt upon your shoulders," Thranduil whispered softly into Legolas's ear so that nobody else could hear.

          Legolas nodded slightly as he pulled out of his father's arms.  He wiped away the tears clinging to his cheeks.  He turned and mounted on Arod in one swift, practiced movement.  Seeing this, his men followed suit.  

          He gently nudged his steed's sides, and with a final wave of his hand, Legolas set out once again for Gondor.  He turned east, away from the falling sun with silver tears glinting in his eyes.   "I will see you again," he vowed in a whisper to himself and rode away.

          But by some chance of fate and the road of life that had been mapped out for him, he never returned home, to the halls where he had grown up, to his brothers' waiting smiles, to his father's waiting arms.  

          Lives of many men passed, none escaping from their mortal destiny.  Estel was no different to this fate and passed, too soon for Legolas.  To him, he had lost another friend, another sibling, a brother.  Such many pains of loss that he bore were never meant for an elf's heart and the sea ever beckoned to him, to lose his sorrow in its silver plumes.

          As Legolas sailed away from the lands that had born him, and away from his father and brothers, his mother's and sister's memories, his last thoughts were of his mother's smile, his sister's song, Adrahil's voice, Brethilorn's pranks, Thalion's laugh, his father's everlasting love.  

          "Namarië," he whispered.

          And as the ship was born away upon the rocking waves, in the coming wind Legolas heard his father's voice, "Namarië, ion-nin.  Amin thel meltha lle ullume.  I will love you forever."

_I Meth_

_ The End_

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*Maer manadh, gwador = Good luck, brother.

*Namarië, ion-nin.  Amin thel meltha lle ullume = Farewell, my son.  I will love you forever.

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BButtercup – I'm glad they talked too ^_^

Zammy – Thanks for the review!  Hope it was soon enough!

mistopurr – Thanks for all your reviews!  I thought the last chapter was sad too, but it was kinda happy cuz Legolas finally gets it that he's been forgiven.  Silly elf.  I never would have been able to get all the elvish without your help!  Thanks!

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Thanks for all the reviews everyone!  I've started work on another fic, set during The Hobbit.  It's going to include all the characters (well, almost all) from _A Lost Life, A Lost Soul_, and _Forgiven_.  So, I guess it could be a sort of prequel.  Possibly also looking to do a parody/humor thing (O_O)

Thanks again, everyone!

-Silwen

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Any last reviews, comments, etc?  Lay 'em on. 


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